


Here Comes The Boom

by jadehqknb



Series: I'll stop the world (and melt with you) [20]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Kiss, I'm sure you won't miss them, M/M, Manga Spoilers, atsumu gets swept up in his wake, bokuto is a force of nature, some dancing, some side ships - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:21:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29551329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadehqknb/pseuds/jadehqknb
Summary: It’s the first day of orientation for new players of the Black Jackals and Bokuto Koutarou crashes into the locker room like a typhoon. He’s no stranger to Atsumu, not when he’s made the center stage of Nationals in high school at least twice. But he’s something entirely different up close. Like, in his literal face close. Anyone who ever doubted the existence of auras need only spend thirty seconds in Bokuto’s presence. It pours from every vein, heightened by bright eyes and a loud, booming voice.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Miya Atsumu
Series: I'll stop the world (and melt with you) [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1392886
Comments: 9
Kudos: 49





	Here Comes The Boom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kunimi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kunimi/gifts).



It’s the first day of orientation for new players of the Black Jackals and Bokuto Koutarou crashes into the locker room like a typhoon. He’s no stranger to Atsumu, not when he’s made the center stage of Nationals in high school at least twice. But he’s something entirely different up _close_ . Like, in his literal face close. Anyone who ever doubted the existence of auras need only spend thirty seconds in Bokuto’s presence. It pours from every vein, heightened by bright eyes and a loud, _booming_ voice. 

“Hey, hey, hey, you’re Miya-san right?” Bokuto looks towards Osamu and points at him. “And you’re Miya-san left! Haha! Get it?!” 

Bokuto bounds away to hug Hinata, spinning him around and knocking over something or other while Atsumu is left in his wake to bemoan the loss of his chaotic nature replaced by the necessity to make sure things don’t actually catch on fire one of these days. 

Somewhere in a rice field with a genuine farmer’s tan, Kita-san is laughing while Osamu is laughing right next to him. His brother slaps him on the shoulder, still chuckling. “Well, good luck with… all that.” He waves vaguely to the other side of the room where Bokuto is about to learn that cornering Sakusa is as bad an idea as cornering a feral cat. 

Atsumu moves to his locker pushing his bag into it and slamming it shut. He sighs when he sees whose locker is _right_ next to him. 

“Hey, neighbor!” Bokuto crashes into the locker, righting himself and looking none the worse for wear. “You ready for a kick-ass year?” 

“If I have to drag your sorry ass up from the ground because you can’t handle the pressure, I will serve a ball right into your face,” Atsumu snaps. He stalks away towards the locker room exit door, stepping into the gym. 

Behind him, the cacophony continues and he steadies himself. He can do this. 

~~

The start of their season is, unsurprisingly, a mess. They have to fine-tune, get in sync and generally work themselves to semi-death just to stay on par with their opponents. 

But Atsumu loves it. Most of the time. 

What he’s not a fan of is the team bonding events. 

“We bond every day on the damn court,” he complains to Osamu. 

As usual, he receives no sympathy for his pains. “It’s different and you know it. And it’s not all the time, stop being a baby.” 

“Keep insulting me and I’ll stop recommending we have you cater.”

“I’m already endeared to all of them more than you ‘Sumu.”

The unfortunate thing is, he’s right. The team is enamored with Osamu. Well, with his food anyhow. Although Atsumu is beginning to suspect that a certain prickly wing spiker is enamored with the cook more than his wares. 

It’s a thought he doesn’t need and pushes away. 

Tonight they’re watching movies, allowed to stuff themselves with whatever they want for a cheat day and it’s practically the definition of gluttony. Atsumu sits with legs tucked in the corner of the couch, munching on popcorn, his eyes on the screen. The room is mostly dim, not pitch black so their eyes don’t burn. Atsumu wonders who picked a scary movie. Not his first choice but he can hang. 

A second later, his bowl is jostled sending popcorn spilling about when Bokuto crashes into his side, tucking his face into the crook of Atsumu’s neck. 

“What the hell Bo?” he snaps, trying not to lose hold of the bowl. 

“It’s really scary,” Bokuto half mumbles, half cries. 

Atsumu rolls his eyes at the dramatics and is about to shove Bokuto off of him when he feels the tremble of his body and pauses. Did he imagine it with his nerves on edge from being startled at suddenly having half a lap full of beefcake? He feels it again. 

No, Bokuto is actually scared. 

So Atsumu relaxes his body, moves the bowl in his hand to the side table, and lays his other hand on Bokuto’s back, patting it awkwardly. 

At least he won’t be cold. 

~~

It takes them nearly half the season to find their stride but when they do, the Black Jackals are definitely a force to be reckoned with.

Especially Bokuto. 

Atsumu knew he could bring out the best of all his hitters, but Bokuto is another story entirely. The power he releases when the set and hit are perfect seems to shake the rafters. The thunder of the crowd joins the pounding of their feet on the court and Atsumu suddenly knows what it feels like to be in the eye of a storm. The swirling mass of energy permeates out towards the crowd, towards their opponents, towards the world through the screens of their TVs. It’s like lightning striking the same spot again and again each time he and Bokuto connect. 

Bang. 

Boom. 

Crash. 

They obliterate the opposing team, point after point after point until they're looking at their first shut-out ever. 

And, as has come to be expected, when the final whistle blows confirming their victory, Bokuto crashes into Atsumu, lifting him up in a half-hug, laughing almost manically. 

And Atsumu laughs right along with him. 

~~

They have a week off before preparations for the tournament begin and the team is out with a circus of humanity that consists of their various friends and family. Even Oomi-kun decides to come to the club which stuns Atsumu until he sees him make a beeline for where Osamu sits at a booth in the darkest corner of the room. Atsumu knows it’s not exactly quiet over there, but it’s the closest they’ll get. 

He’s already three rounds in so he feels slightly magnanimity towards them and shows it in a half-smile. 

Leaning against the bar, he watches the sea of bodies moving together in a mass of what he presumes is ‘dancing’. He’s never really been one for it, to be honest, content to sit on the perimeter and watch others make fools of themselves. A few, he’ll admit, are hot and he definitely enjoys those treats when they come around. 

He’s just finished his fourth round when Bokuto—as is his way—crashes into his side, his large arm wrapping around Atsumu’s shoulders. 

“Tsum Tsum! Come dance with me!” he bellows in his ear unnecessarily. Sure, it’s loud in here, but he’s so close and already speaks so loudly, he didn’t have to break Atsumu’s eardrums. 

“I don’t dance,” he shouts back, waving the bartender over for another. 

“Aww, come on! It’s no fun by myself!” 

Atsumu looks at Bokuto, cocking an eyebrow. “Uh, don’t know how you missed it, buddy, but there’s _plenty_ of people to join you.” 

“But not anyone I know! Kuroo’s with Sawamura and already gave me the stink eye for breaking in on them.” Atsumu can’t fight the quirking of his lip at that. “Shouyou is finally making a move on Kenma—which I still can’t believe he actually came, wow he must really, _really_ like Shou and I can’t believe it’s taken that ball of sunshine so long to believe it—and Oomi-kun is making out with your brother.” 

“Ew, I didn’t need to know that,” Atsumu complains. 

Bokuto barrels on as if he didn’t hear him. In this ruckus, he probably didn’t. “And… and… just _please_? It’ll be fun, I promise!” 

Atsumu looks into golden, earnest eyes burning with a fire and frenzy that takes his breath away and he wonders how Bokuto is always so _on_ , so up, up, up. He’s not sure he’s ever seen him down, not truly, except when he’s asleep and even then he twitches and turns in his sleep. 

Crash. Bang. Boom. 

“Fine, but only for a few minutes,” Atsumu agrees. 

“Whoohoo!” Bokuto shouts, grabbing Atsumu’s hand and dragging him into the center of the dance floor. 

Atsumu may not be a germaphobe like Oomi-kun but that doesn’t mean he enjoys having sweaty bodies of strangers pressed against him. But Bokuto is strong and determined and it’s just easier to go with his flow. He finds the space he wants and turns, pulling Atsumu until it’s Atsumu who crashes into him for once. 

Bokuto leans in close, his breath right on Atsumu’s ear and he braces for the shattering of his eardrums. 

Only it doesn’t come. Bokuto speaks almost softly, a bit of a rasp in his tone—compliments of all of the yelling he’s done tonight. “Just follow my lead.” 

Atsumu can’t stop the shiver of his body at that tone. It knocks the breath out of him like a cold slam of water, unexpected because it’s _so hot_. He’s in the center of the storm again only this time, he’s dancing with the danger chest to chest, grinding and swaying and generally losing himself in the moment. 

And then they’re moving closer, Bokuto’s large hands on Atsumu’s hips and Atsumu’s long arms around Bokuto’s neck. They’re closed in now, bumped and pushed from all sides, but Atsumu can only see Bokuto, can only smell Bokuto, can only hear and only feel _Bokuto_. 

It’s then he realizes, he wants a _taste_ of him, too. 

He leans in before he realizes what he’s doing. Thankfully, Bokuto is leaning in, too. And when their lips crash together, Atsumu _burns_. His fingers lace through sweat-soaked tresses, his brow furrowing at the firm push of Bokuto’s tongue into his mouth because it feels so _good_. 

Bokuto moans, the vibrations racing through Atsumu’s lips down his spine and into his toes. Suddenly, he wishes they were anywhere but here, somewhere he could push his hands under Bokuto’s shirt and feel the muscles he sees every day, taste the skin he catches glimpses of in the showers despite his best efforts not to look. 

“You wanna get outta here?” Bokuto groans against Atsumu’s ear, teasing its lobe with his teeth. 

Atsumu nods and then they’re moving again, Bokuto’s hand in his, pulling him through the crowd. They barely crash through the back exit into an alley before Bokuto is back on him, pushing him against a wall, lips sealing on his throat. 

“Let’s go back to the dorm,” Atsumu gasps, wiggling free. This time, it’s he who takes Bokuto’s hand and they run through the street towards home. 

They glance at each other and Bokuto laughs, a bright, happy, booming sound that bounces off the bricks and asphalt and glass around them. 

And it’s then Atsumu realizes, without him even noticing, Bokuto managed to crash into his heart. 


End file.
